


The Right Thing For Me

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Other, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Follow up to What Do I Do?Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“Are you ready to go?” your father asked you.

Just two days ago, you had confessed to your father that at the age of 16, you were pregnant. All of the movies and people you knew that had gone through the same thing made it seem as though your father would disown you for getting pregnant, but your father had been an anchor the past couple of days. He’d contacted your mother’s OBGYN, who’d brought you into the world, and made an appointment for you. In addition, he’d already started looking up adoption agencies in the area for you to look into.

You nodded. “I’m nervous,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. Your father walked over to you and kissed you on the forehead.

“I know you are,” he replied, “but you are making a very grown-up decision and I’m here for you.”

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting in the OBGYN’s office with your father, waiting for her to come in and tell you everything you ever needed to hear about your baby.

“Hello, Y/N,” the doctor said as she walked through the door. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m nervous,” you replied, “but okay.”

“Well, according to your tests, you are, in fact, pregnant. It seems like just yesterday I was delivering you.”

You had feared that the OBGYN would pass judgment on you because you were so young and she had delivered you herself, but she didn’t seem to be; she just smiled, said congratulations and asked for you to pull up your shirt so that she could scan you. The coolness of the gel ran up your spine as she put the wand on your stomach. 

“See this little dot. It kind of looks like a jellybean,” she said, pointing to the screen.

“Yea?”

“That’s your baby,” she replied.

“That’s it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s so tiny.”

Both she and your father laughed. After an exchange of information and making another appointment, she printed out the ultrasound picture and handed it to you, leaving you and your father in the room, wondering what the next eight months would be like.

\-----------------

Over the course of the next two weeks, you continued on in life, going to school and extracurricular activities without telling anyone about the secret you were holding. Everything was going smoothly. You found a couple of adoption agencies you wanted to look into and you were feeling okay, until this morning.

“Are you okay?” you heard your father ask from down the hall. You couldn’t really hear him as you head was planted firmly in the toilet. Your first bout of morning sickness.

“This sucks,” you said, as you saw your father at the bathroom door through the corner of your eye.

He flinched as you heaved once again. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For what it’s worth, morning sickness tends to go away after the first trimester.”

Oh, great, you thought as you threw up again. Only another two and a half months of this.

\-----------------

Every single morning, you woke up with the overwhelming need to vomit, but after you did, the feeling went away for the day. However, another lovely side effect of the flowing hormones in your body were the aversions and cravings. At around two and a half months along, you walked down the stairs, ready to go to school for the day, when you walked into a wall of egg smell. Why was that a bad thing? You had eggs nearly every morning.

“Are you making an omelette?” you asked your father when you walked into the kitchen. You were holding your nose closed, but it was doing no good. He nodded before looking at you, knowing exactly what was happening. “I don’t think the baby likes eggs,” you said, as you ran to the bathroom for the second time that morning.

Thankfully, from that point on, your father didn’t make eggs in the morning, instead grabbing yogurt and fruit for you at the grocery store. You weren’t showing yet; the changes in your body were only noticeable to you, but you knew that moment was fast-approaching and it filled you with anxiety.

\-----------------

The night before a turning point in your pregnancy, you and your father were sitting on the couch watching a movie you used to watch when you were younger. Midway through the second act, you blurted out. “I really, REALLY want buffalo wings...with jalapeños...dammit.”

Your father laughed, “Craving?” 

“Yes,” you sighed, sinking back into the couch. You hoped crappy food cravings wouldn’t be a constant during your pregnancy; you were trying to eat healthy.

Your father paused the movie and stood up, kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll go to Buffalo Wild Wings. They have takeout now. Traditional or boneless?”

“Boneless,” you declared, your mouth watering with anticipation. “Dad,” you said, looking up at the one constant in your life - the best father in the world. “I love you. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he laughed. “At least I’m not going out in the middle of the night for canned cheese for your mother to lather on her pizza.”

“Eww. That’s disgusting,” you laughed.

An hour later, you were eating the best buffalo wings you’d ever had. The jalapeños making you feel like a fire-breathing dragon.

\-----------------

As much as the first three months of your pregnancy were mainly filled with good things, the second trimester would be full of equally horrible things. Days after your delicious buffalo wing adventure, you started to show - and the rest of the school took notice. The whispers didn’t escape your ears. Everyone thought you were a whore. You had apparently slept with half of the school’s male population at least a half a dozen times and everyone was speculating who the father was. You knew what was coming, but that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Hey,” you heard a voice say at your side. It was Rory - your baby’s father.

“What do you want?” you asked, the morning’s vomit fest coming back into your mind. The thought of him made you sick. Granted, you got into this together, but he was refusing to take any responsibility and it sickened you.

“It’s pretty obvious now,” he said, looking down toward your stomach. “You can’t tell anyone I’m the father. Frankly, I can’t even be sure that kid is mine.”

“It’s yours,” you returned hotly. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with and I was only with you once. This baby is yours. And I’ll tell whoever I damn well please.”

You began to walk away and he pulled at your wrist, wrenching you back to meet his gaze. “You can’t tell anyone,” he repeated.

“Or what?” you asked.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as he walked away.

He left you standing there dumbfounded. Did he just threaten your life? Or were your hormones putting your brain in overdrive?

\-----------------

As your stomach grew, so did the ridicule and harassment you endured at school from students and teachers alike. The whispers grew louder, becoming roars of judgement. 

You hadn’t planned on screaming from the rooftops that Rory was the father of your baby, but after his perceived threat, you were apprehensive about correcting the people that harassed you and called you a slut.

Just as you had before your father found out about your pregnancy, you withdrew, talking to basically no one about anything, coaxing through life and this pregnancy this best you could. You hadn’t spoken more than a few words to your father in nearly two weeks. You were five and a half months along.

“Y/N,” he said, knocking on your door that night as you were doing your homework. “Can I come in?”

You got up to open the door and turned back, allowing your father to come in behind you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fat,” you said, “and tired.”

“I know your tired, baby. Is there something else going on? You look like you did before I found out about the baby,” he said. He could always see right through you. It was what made him a great profiler.

“I’m just going through a lot at school,” you said, looking down at your expanding stomach. “Between junior year homework and a being an unwed, pregnant teenage slut, school kind of sucks.” Your lip started to quiver; this was so much harder than you ever imagined it would be.

“You are not a slut. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” he replied. “I wish I could be there for you. I’d pull my gun on everyone.”

“Could you pull it on Rory?” you asked, without realizing what you said. Your dad would go after Rory, and you didn’t want him going to jail for that asshole.

He pulled your head back from his shoulder to meet his gaze. “What did he do?”

“H-He threatened me. He told me not to tell anyone that he was the father and he said he ‘didn’t want to hurt me,’” you started, the tears attempting to break past the walls of your eyelids.

“He threatened you?!” your father screamed. “I’ll kill that fucking kid.”

“Dad, he’s not worth it! I just...I just can’t wait for this to be over so I can try and regain some kind of normalcy.”

“You’re doing a great job and a great thing for someone else. It won’t be too much longer. Did you decide on a couple?” he asked, picking up the brochure from the DC Family Promise Organization, which was an organization that specialized in open adoptions. You had narrowed it down to three couples.

The first was a young couple in their late 20s that didn’t want to have biological children. They felt that the world needed more couples to adopt. The father was an engineer and the mother was a doctor. You really liked them. The second couple already had two children, but decided they wanted to adopt their third. The mother was a teacher and the father was an architect. You liked them a lot too, but were apprehensive about handing your child over to a couple that already had two young children on their hands. The last couple was a lesbian couple, one of whom was a local artist and the other, who was a lawyer. “I’d like to meet them,” you told your dad, pointing to the two women in their early 30s.

“They look like they’d make great parents,” he smiled. “Are you going to set up a meeting?”

“Yea,” you replied. “I just hope I make it through with everything going on at school.”

“You will, sweetheart. I’m here for you. And keep me informed about that asshole Rory.”

\-----------------

Just as you passed the six-month mark, you set up a meeting with the couple you were interested in, Aisha and Kelly Codek met in college and fell in love quickly. After they graduated, Kelly proposed and they were married less than a year later. For the past five years, they had been talking about having children, but weren’t sure how to go about it, until they saw the brochure for DC Family Promise. 

Once you met them you knew immediately that they were the parents you wanted for your child. They were extremely open to having you involved in the baby’s life. They wanted the child to know you, which is what you hoped for.

From then on, you kept them in the loop at every doctor’s appointment, every kick, every craving and your expected due date a little more than two and a half months down the road. Now, all you had to due was field the whispers and threats at school for a little while longer, so you could meet your baby, whose sex you didn’t know, and hand him or her over to their new, loving parents.  
\-----------------

One week before your due date, you were practically screaming for it to be over. “My feet are humongous, my stomach gets places before the rest of me, I pee every five minutes and I’m so tired!” you screamed, when you father came to ask you how you were. “Sorry,” you replied, when he flinched.  
“It’s okay,” he said, “your mother was so on edge at this point that once, when I surprised her, she turned around and smacked me across the face.”

“Hold on a second,” you laughed, making your way to the bathroom. “I have to pee again.” Two minutes later, you came out and looked toward your father. “Did mom say what it felt like when her water broke?”  
“She said it felt like she had to pee even though she had just gone to the bathroom,” he said.

It was time. “Then my water definitely just broke.”  
\-----------------

On the way to the hospital, during which time you bit your father’s head off no less than five times, you called Aisha and Kelly, letting them know that their baby was on the way. With excitement, they hung up and headed to the hospital, leaving you to huff and puff from the insane pressure that was bursting from within you.

“We’re almost there, baby girl,” he said, driving as fast as he possibly could.

Once there, you were ushered into a private birthing room, your father with you every step of the way. Luckily, you were already nine centimeters when you arrived, so shortly after, when Aisha and Kelly had arrived, you were told to push. There were so many people in the room. A doctor, nurse and anesthesiologist for you. A second set for the baby. Plus your father and the new parents.

“Holy fuck!!!!!” you screamed, as you pushed for a third time. Every muscle hurt. Every fiber was on fire. This was unbearable. The only thing that got you through were the words of one of the mothers, Kelly.

“We’re all going to be parents soon,” she said to you. Even though you were giving this baby up for a better life and even though they were going to be the parents on record, they still considered you a member of the family. You had definitely chosen the right couple. And as hard as this had all been, it was the right path for you.

On the fifth push, a beautiful baby girl entered the world. The doctors immediately placed her in your arms and you sobbed, your father crying alongside you. “I’m so proud of you, honey,” he said, looking down at his granddaughter.

Violet Codek was born at 7:48 PM. She was 8 pounds 1 ounce and was 20 and 3/4 inches long. She was beautiful. There was not a dry eye in the room. You loved this little girl. How could you? You just met her. But you knew there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her. How were you supposed to say goodbye?  
\-----------------

Three months later.

The day after you gave birth was the hardest day you had ever endured in your 17 years. Worse than finding out you were pregnant, worse than all the ridicule you had undergone, none of it compared to looking down at your daughter and knowing you couldn’t give her the life she deserved. You had to hand her over to her parents.

That night, after Aisha, Kelly and Violet left the hospital, you spent the night crying into your father’s arms.

“I’m so proud of you,” he kept repeating. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to hand over your little girl, but she’s going to have a great life. And you made that happen.”

\--

Without the baby inside you, you returned to your school routine, making sure to always talk to your father when you were feeling down, in addition to seeing a therapist once a week.

After three months with no sleep, Aisha and Kelly had invited you over to see Violet.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Aisha greeted as she opened the door.

“How’s Violet?” you asked immediately. 

“She’s great, beautiful, happy and very, very awake,” she laughed, as Kelly rounded the corner with Violet in hand.

“Hi beautiful,” you said, looking at your three-month old daughter. She was already so big. Kelly put her in your arms and you began to cry again, but this time they were tears of joy; she was beautiful...and happy.

Aisha and Kelly looked exhausted. Apparently Violet was a very active baby. You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but you wanted to offer. “If you’re both okay with it, why don’t I watch her while you two get a little bit of sleep?”

They both looked at each other with such relief. “That sounds great,” they said simultaneously.

“We’ll be back in an hour and a half,” Aisha said, as they pointed out where they kept the diapers, wipes, clothes, etc.

Kelly looked at Violet, pinching her cheeks before they went upstairs. “You stay here with Mommy number three while numbers one and two go get some sleep,” she said, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

“We can’t thank you enough, Y/N,” Kelly said.

You knew how much that actually meant.


End file.
